


Backseat Serenade

by 1dfetusfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dfetusfics/pseuds/1dfetusfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry smiles again, a flash of white teeth before he lifts his arms to frame around the car, like he’s a game show host and not just a senior that’s likely to be the cause of Louis’ first heart attack. “I wanted to have it all cleaned and stuff for an early birthday present.”</p>
<p>(or the one in which Louis agrees to help out at his brother's car wash, and ends up a little bit in love with the dweeb in a headscarf.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: 
> 
> Hi, I don't know if you still take prompts but if you still do is it possible if you could write one where Louis is a slut but Liam his brother doesn't know that so he takes Louis to a car wash for seniors only then Harry and Louis meet and fuck in Harry's car.

“I see you brought the kid.”

It’s the first thing Louis hears as he slides out of the passenger side of Liam’s truck, after his older brother spends a good couple of minutes making sure he’s properly squared in the parking space – a smug smile about his _senior_ spot, while Louis will have to park in the clear back when he gets his license in the coming winter.

He squints in the bright sunlight as he slams the door behind him, reaching up to pull his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

Niall is standing just behind Liam’s truck, shirtless and soaked with either water or sweat – possibly both – from head to toe. His cheeks are flushed a scalding red that matches the beginnings of a nasty sunburn on his exposed shoulders, but he grins at them jovially anyways, panting slightly as if he sprinted the moment he saw Liam’s truck.

“He asked to come along,” Liam replies with a soft shrug, crossing around the fender to throw a thick arm around Louis’ shoulder, ruffling the back of his hair affectionately. Louis can’t help the slight smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth; Liam is a grizzly bear of a big brother that he can’t help but love.

The smile disappears though, as Niall flings himself into the middle of them, shaking his soaked hair like a wet dog.

“Gross, Niall!” Louis huffs indignantly; throwing his hands up in front of his face to block the worst of it, and finds himself laughing into Liam’s shirt as he cowers into his brother.

“You gonna help us wash cars, then?” Niall asks as he steps away, pushing his – now, only damp – hair off his forehead. He jerks a thumb behind him, to where a handful of cars are already parked around the cul-de-sac loop at the front of their school, groups of seniors working in to hose them down and wash them off as quickly as possible. “We could really use the money.”

Louis shakes his head teasingly, smiling slyly. “Not my fault you lot spent the past three years dicking around instead of fundraising. It’s not my end of the year dance that’s currently lacking funding.”

Niall rolls his eyes in reply, words tumbling out of his mouth between soft laughter, “Liam your kid brother is a pain in my ass.”

Louis can’t even take offense to that with the stupid, fucking enlightening grin that Niall’s worked himself into. Niall’s just one of those people that eats all your cereal and lounges on your couch half-dressed, and Liam would still invite him over without a second thought – enticed by constant hat hair and a wonky-teeth grin.

It’s torturous, really, how unbelievably straight Niall is, on top of all that, Louis reckons.

“I’m fifteen! Two years younger than you!” Louis sighs anyways, crossing his arms over his chest. He stands a bit straighter, puffing his chest out and flexing his arms subtly under his thin blue t-shirt. He’s attempting to look tough, and it feels like it’s at least working a _bit_ – at least, until Liam huffs out one of his mischievous giggles and wraps his arms around Louis’ thighs, tossing his younger brother over his shoulder with ease.

Louis pouts into Liam’s shoulder blades, not even bothering to struggle out of his grip as they start walking towards the car wash. “You two are the worst.”

-

“Sit here and don’t be a complete bother,” Liam says as they round the front of the building, dropping Louis from his shoulder directly into a rickety plastic chair that astoundingly doesn’t give out under his sudden weight. Louis thinks light thoughts as he settles in, nonetheless.

He doesn’t protest being sentenced away from the actual work, knowing that he’s not technically even supposed to be here – the senior class made it very clear that no underclassmen were allowed on the premises.

But then, Louis doesn’t think they’d kick him out, knowing he’s blown the class president during the most recent pep rally, tucked away under the frame work of the bleachers. It was done and over with before the Pom girls even finished their routine.

It would be one thing if he didn’t know any members of Liam’s class; but with Liam being a member of both the track and football team his entire life, Louis has interacted with the horde of boys that seem to flood his house after practice, raiding the pantries for crisps. He plays on the JV team himself, and the older boys apparently consider that reason enough to be amiable.

(He’s also snuck off with a handful of them upstairs to his room, to let out muffled whimpers of their names into his mattress, fists wadded into his sheets. But that’s something Liam doesn’t need to know about.)

“I work a two hour shift, so be here at three so I can go home and fucking shower,” Liam continues above him, reaching a hand over his back to peel off his thin athletic department shirt, flicking it at his younger brother unceremoniously. He musters a dopey smile at the leggy girl sitting on Louis’ left before turning on his heels to help Niall hose down an incoming dark sedan.

Louis starts to quickly understand what Liam meant about showering – he can already feel sweat pricking uncomfortably at his temples and the small of his back under the late August sun, scooting his chair into the shade provided from a bright umbrella connected to the table where the girl is apparently taking money.

“Here – drink up,” She says with a bright grin, oversized sunglasses falling down her nose as she nudges an empty dixie cup at him, before haphazardly pouring it to the brim with lemonade out of a pitcher.

Louis thanks her, only getting a gloss-lipped hum in reply before she looks back down to the magazine in her lap, leaving Louis to his own devices.

Which is honestly better than Louis could have asked for.

He loves both his brother and Niall – but he doesn’t love them enough to sweat his ass off for two hours just to keep them company. He will endure the heat though, for the holy grail of high school: the senior class boys – shirtless, soaked, and leaning over the hoods of various cars in compromising positions.

Louis very well may be in his own personal form of heaven.

-

The first hour passes quickly enough: one hand wrapped around the condensation-slick lemonade cup, which the girl – Sophia, she says with a smile, before launching into some cringe worthy story about Liam – keeps obsessively filled, the other hand pressed down over the front of his denim shorts, trying to will himself out of a full blown hard-on.

It’s proving to be difficult for Louis; more often than not he looks up to see some member of the basketball team, reaching forward to scrub at the windshield of a car, muscles in their backs fucking _rippling._

Louis is a dead man walking if Liam catches on, to say the least.

It’s not like Liam is unaware of his sexuality – Louis already came out to both his brother and his mum last year just before school started up, not wanting to still be closeted going into secondary. It wasn’t a big deal to them, Liam just hugged him and his Mum cried a bit, out of happiness, she said.

What Liam is strictly unaware of is Louis’ _experience_ with boys, particularly the multitude of times Louis has found himself stripped from the waist down, sinking down onto some lad’s cock right after a footie match, reeking of sweat and cheap body spray.

Louis was fourteen the first time another lad – one of Liam’s teammates, Josh – placed a hand on the inside of his thigh after weeks of innocent flirting, and left it there long enough for Louis to start to squirm, feeling his cock fatten up in his basketball shorts uncontrollably. Not his fault really; at fourteen, a strong breeze was enough to get him hard.

He was a bit hesitant when Josh brushed his lips against his ear, softly suggesting that they go up to his room and leading Louis up the staircase while digging his teeth into his bottom lip worriedly. It was only when he was spread out on his bed moments later, shorts missing, and Josh’s hand wrapped firmly around his cock that he finally relaxed.

It was _nice_ , Louis realized, letting another lad touch him like this, feeling his hot breath ghost against his skin in his little pants, the constant challenge of being caught. It was exhilarating to feel someone’s heavy gaze and know exactly what they wanted from him.

Once Louis started hooking up with boys, he simply couldn't stop.

And Liam, as trusting and oblivious as he is, never mentions it if Louis ever comes back downstairs with ruddy cheeks and disheveled hair and a teammate at his hip, never comments on the fact that it apparently takes twenty minutes just to locate a film to watch with the lads.

Anyways – just as Louis thinks he’s a complete goner and will have to shuffle back to Liam’s truck with an unwelcome boner at the end of his brother’s shift, Liam comes looping up, wet hair plastered to his forehead.

Louis has a faint suspicion he’s spent more time being hosed down by Niall than actually working in the past hour.

“Do me a favor?” Liam asks quickly, bracing one hand against the surface of the table as he leans over to knick Louis’ half full cup. He misses Louis’ compulsive eyeroll as he tilts his head back to down it in one gulp.

“Depends.”

Liam crumples the plastic cup in his grip, before dropping it back down on the table. “Help one of my mates wash his car around back. Would do it up here, but we’re swamped.” He jerks a thumb behind him to prove his point, where vehicles are starting to line up on the street, cul-de-sac completely full.

Sighing, Louis nods, pushing his chair back as he stands up. He resigns himself to the task easily, knowing that a day of gawking at boys wasn’t going to come free. If he has any luck, it’ll be the Malik boy with the criminal cheekbones. “You owe me for this.”

-

The thing about Liam is, when he uses the term _mate_ it could mean anyone; from Niall, to their third cousin Charlie, to the old man down the street that Liam brings the paper in for when his arthritis flares. Liam’s full of giggles and shrugs and turns out to not be all that particular about his friendship – which, Louis feels explains why the _complete_ tosser Andy is always around.

Louis realizes quickly though as he rounds the corner back to the parking lot, that _mate_ can also mean ‘tall, curly-haired, and absolutely gorgeous.’

The lad is leaning against the hood of a dusty Range Rover, thumb scrolling idly over the screen of his phone. His curls are long, almost touching his shoulders, in the effortlessly messy look that takes Louis several tries to perfect every morning.

Louis has the feeling that this lad didn’t have to try at all. At least, not the amount of effort he mmust've put into painting himself into those ridiculously tight jeans, that is. They just disappear into his neon green tennis shoes, like they’ve become permanently attached to his skin.

Louis has to repeat it in his head like a mantra, _don’t look at his bulge, don’t look at his bulge, don’t—_

He clears his throat awkwardly to catch the boy’s attention, scratching at the nape of his neck where his hair is slightly sticky from sweat, “Um, I’m Louis?”

The boy looks up from his phone, clicking the lock button automatically as he tucks it into his back pocket, pushing himself off the car to extend a hand to Louis. He smiles so widely Louis thinks it must hurt, especially with the craters of dimples that carve into his cheeks, “I’m Harry! You’re Payno’s brother, aren’t you? He said you’d be helping me out.”

And, well, Louis would _love_ to help Harry out. Out of those jeans and that flimsy Ramones t-shirt, at least.

“Half-brother, technically. But, yeah.” Louis explains with a polite smile, shaking his hand. He sends up a thankful prayer for the dark tint of his sunglasses, so Harry can’t see his intense gaze on the flex of muscle on his bicep, and the miniscule black ink of a tattoo pressed into the bend of his elbow.

“So um – “ Harry is speaking, and Louis has to straighten himself up, force himself to listen instead of dreaming about pressing himself between Harry’s unbelievably skinny thighs. “This is my Mum’s car, obviously,” he says, patting the hood gently, as if he’s afraid of actually hurting it. “As if I could afford a Rover on my bakery salary.”

Harry smiles again, a flash of white teeth before he lifts his arms to frame around the car, like he’s a game show host and not just a senior that’s likely to be the cause of Louis’ first heart attack. “I wanted to have it all cleaned and stuff for an early birthday present.”

Louis smiles softly, willing himself not to simply melt into the pavement, because Harry is an honest to god Momma’s boy. He doesn't doubt butter would melt in his mouth.

“That’s thoughtful.”

Harry laughs, shrugging up his shoulders. It makes his curls bounce a bit, and Louis should really calm himself of the overwhelming urge to sink to his knees in front of this boy. “It’s cheap.”  
Louis quirks an eyebrow up playfully, pushing his aviators up on his head for Harry to get the full effect of his dubious look, “Cheap as in free?”

“Cheap as in free, indeed,” Harry smiles slyly, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth.

“Let’s get to work then.”

Harry grins widely as he turns and takes a few steps forward, ducking his head to pick up a blue bucket next to one of the front wheels, dumping out its contents onto the gravel of the parking lot, bottles of soap and sponges tumbling to Louis’ feet.

“What’s this?” Louis asks curiously, stooping down to pick up a thin green cloth almost hidden under a spray bottle of tire cleaner. It’s soft in his hand, and almost shimmers in the sunlight; he doubts that it’s just a wash rag.

Harry plucks it out of his hands quickly, a sheepish smile on his face as he starts to fold it lengthwise over and over again, until it’s just a thin strip of fabric. “It’s my headscarf,” He explains quietly, reaching up to push his curls back and tie it at the nape of his neck.

There’s a dark corkscrew curl sticking up just above his left ear once he’s finished, and a stupid smile stretched across his face, tongue tucked between his teeth.

Louis can’t help but laugh softly. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

-

They get to work quickly, Harry manning the hose while Louis soaps down the vehicle one side at a time, careful not to leave any streak marks in his wake.

Harry plays some sort of loud indie playlist inside the Rover, and while it’s somewhat muffled with the doors and windows closed, Louis can still hear it well enough, the beat thrumming under his fingers- when Harry isn’t crooning the lyrics into the nozzle of the hose like it’s a microphone, that is.

Niall swings by – having finally located a thin cotton vest that does nothing to conceal his crimson sunburn – giving them a friendly smile as he leaves two thick towels to dry off with when they finish, before waggling his eyebrows as he announces that his shift is over and he’s off to see his current girlfriend.

It’s not quite as hot as it was earlier, but it’s still a sticky sort of humid, and Louis doesn’t hesitate to kick off his Vans and peel his shirt of his frame, tossing them as far away from Harry’s renegade water spray as possible. He curls his toes into the sharp gravel below him, and while it’s unpleasant, it’s better than sweating into the thick fabric of his shoes.

Harry crinkles his nose playfully as he looks down at Louis’ bare feet, waving a hand in front of his nose, “You should invest in some socks. Your feet reek, Lou.”

Although he knows Harry is only kidding by the easy smile on his face, Louis still blushes in embarrassment, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “The money I save on socks could buy you a proper haircut,” He retorts finally, reaching a hand into the sudsy water bucket to flick some at Harry.

Harry giggles, even as he looks down in disdain at the wet spots on his shirt, hardly even visible on the dark black fabric. Even though they both know it’ll be dried in minutes under the sun, Louis knows he’s in for it when Harry glances back up with a mischievous smile, one that makes his dimples pop.

Louis barely has time to brace himself before Harry lifts the hose up, squeezing the handle to blast Louis full-force with water, starting at his chest before lifting the hose higher, aiming for his face.

Even though the cool temperature of the water is relieving under the constant sun, Louis still lets out a little noise of surprise, stumbling blindly around the front of the vehicle to avoid getting even more soaked.

He can hear Harry laughing loudly behind him as the water cuts off, and sighs, rubbing the water out of his eyes. “You might as well just let me soak you entirely now, yeah? Only thing that isn’t wet is your shorts,” Harry reasons, leaning up on his toes to look at Louis, where he’s resting against the warm metal of the hood.

“Only if I get to spray you back?” Louis suggests, arching up both eyebrows challengingly. He tries to tell himself it’s more about revenge than the possibility of seeing Harry’s wet shirt cling to his torso, even if it’s a lie.

Harry shrugs. “Seems fair.”

Louis nods smugly, crossing back over to stand directly in front of Harry, outstretching his arms widely, waiting for Harry to finish hosing him down. It only takes a moment before cold water splashes against his ankles, and then the spray tilts up to soak the denim of his shorts entirely, sticking to his thighs.

“My turn,” Louis declares once Harry’s done, sticking his hand out for the hose. He quickly realizes though, he’s getting more than he bargained for, when Harry hands it over easily, before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off, casting it aside.

Louis doesn’t even bother pulling his sunglasses back down to hide his gaze, mouth agape as he takes in what seems like miles of tan, muscled torso, shifting as Harry stumbles to kick off his trainers. He can make out the soft ridges of Harry’s abs, the dark trail of hair disappearing into the snug waistband of his jeans.

“You gonna do it then?” Harry asks finally, sounding smug. Louis blushes and averts his gaze; Harry isn’t stupid or blind, he could easily tell that Louis was staring. But surprisingly, he doesn’t seem off put by it as Louis looks back to him – instead, he has his eyebrows raised up questioningly, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

Oh, Louis realizes with a jolt, corners of his mouth tilting upwards, heart thudding in his chest, Harry is flirting with him.

He doesn’t hesitate to squeeze the handle of the hose tightly, taking his time to spray Harry from his shoulders to his feet – the curls are too cute to be tampered with, Louis reasons – and giggles loudly as Harry turns and wiggles his bum into the spray, dancing some half-assed form of the Macarena.

Louis passes back the hose, shaking his head fondly as he turns to finish soaping down the driver’s side window, hoping that his half-hard dick isn’t noticeable through the wet fabric of his shorts.

They fall back into their work quickly – Louis scrubbing furiously at the metal rims of the tires until they shine, wiping at the windshield until all the splotches of dirt are rinsed off from the pitch black tint.

He can feel the warm burn of his bare shoulders in the sunlight, but it’s pleasant, especially with the way Harry keeps dousing him with water every few minutes, before ducking behind the vehicle with a sly smile in fear of retaliation.

Louis can feel it; can pinpoint the exact moment Harry’s gaze turns on him. It’s always been a sixth sense of his, being able to tell when a person is looking at him – and Harry is definitely staring.

It makes the back of Louis’ neck scald hot in a way that isn’t from the sun, as he puts on a bit of a show for the older lad, squatting and bending over the hood just a bit too eagerly. Sometimes when he cranes his neck, he catches it – the sharp stare trained on the curve of his bum.

Harry doesn’t even have the humility to act embarrassed when he’s caught, just purses his lips together in a small whistle, audible even over the hum of his music.

Louis wants Harry more than he’s ever wanted anyone; his chest is tight, heartbeat hammering against his ribcage with need. If he doesn’t at least get a hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, he’s going to go mad.

“Looks nice,” Harry comments idly as they finish, giving the rear end a final once over soak. Louis pretends he doesn’t notice the way Harry’s gazing at him and not the vehicle.

He nods softly in agreement anyways, rolling his shoulders as he collapses on the ground, shoulders pressed against a front tire as he towels at his hair furiously.

“First and last time I do any sort of free labor,” Louis laughs breathlessly, curling the towel around his shoulder as Harry turns the spigot of the faucet at the back of the school off.

Harry shrugs with a dimpled smile, upturning the sudsy bucket before picking up the other towel, drying off his chest. “Put it on your volunteer hours. Colleges love that shit.”

Letting out a sigh in the form of a response, Louis just rolls his eyes habitually, pushing himself into a standing position. Cocking his hip against the metal frame of the Rover, he dusts the gravel off from the back of his thighs. “They love excellent footie skills too,” He grins, righting himself up to mimic kicking the bucket, as if it’s the ball.

Harry laughs loudly at that, teeth digging into his bottom lip fondly. “Hop into the Rover, we’ve got one final thing to do,” He instructs, gesturing at the passenger side door.

Louis nods quickly, in no state to turn down any chance to be in close proximity with the older lad. He giggles as Harry slides across the hood of the Rover to get to his own door.

“Hurry up then,” Harry teases as Louis opens the door, already seated, unplugging his phone from the stereo. The music comes to an abrupt halt as Louis carefully folds his towel, placing it on the leather seat before sitting down, not wanting to ruin the interior with water stains.

He may be a slut, but Louis has got manners.

As he shuts the door behind him, Harry starts up the Rover, twisting the keys in the ignition to let cool air filter through the vents in front of them. Louis sighs in relief, leaning his face forward to get a full blast; long enough to start shivering with the way it turns his damp hair cold.

Harry taps him on the shoulder softly, voice breaking the soft silence between them, “Lean back for a moment, Lou.”

He automatically sits back against his seat as Harry leans towards him, one hand opening up the glove box, the other still wrapped around Louis’ sunbaked shoulder. Harry roots around amid several papers and booklets until he lets out a little noise of content, pulling out something with an audible crinkle.

Louis’ cock gives a twitch of interest, automatically thinking of the crinkle of a condom packet. He has to suppress a sigh of disappointment as Harry holds it up excitedly, pulling his hand away from Louis as he struggles with ripping the clear packaging – an air freshener.

He does sigh though, when Harry finally gets the air freshener open and hangs it from the rearview mirror, and ungodly, pungent fake floral scent filling the air. “Christ, roll down a window,” Louis demands, voice slightly nasally as he pinches two fingers over his nose. He quickly taps at his own window button, but it doesn’t budge.

Harry giggles and shakes his head as he crinkles up the clear packaging and drops it over the center console. “It’s better than smelling your feet, darling,” He coos consolingly, reaching a hand to smooth over Louis’ hair.

“Fuck off,” Louis snorts, pushing his hand away as he attempts to lean over Harry to reach the driver’s side window controls, nose crinkled up in disgust at the offending scent. He stops short though, when he realizes what position he’s got himself into – leaned across the center console, a face full of Harry’s lap.

He’s about to pull away, cheeks burning with embarrassment, when Harry places a heavy palm between his bowed shoulder blades, keeping him still. If anything, it presses Louis closer to his crotch, only centimeters between his lips and the forming bulge under Harry’s fly.

Louis can almost feel the mood shift as Harry’s skinny hips tilt up minutely, all of Louis’ wantwantwant towards Harry surfacing at once.

Harry’s voice resonates above him, soft and slow, thick with something Louis knows all too well: lust. “I’ve heard things about you in class, babe, from all the lads in my grade. You’re a right slut, aren’t you? Just dying to put a boy’s cock in your mouth. Is that right?”

Louis nods silently, curling his fingers into the edge of the seating just below Harry’s knees. His own cock is pressed against the side of the center console, straining against the damp fabric of his shorts, and he wonders if Harry would mind if he rubbed against it for relief.

He stays still, just in case. Louis knows he’ll do just about anything Harry wants in hopes that he’ll get more, anything to get off at this point – although, if he had a choice, he would prefer being fucked back into the steering wheel on Harry’s lap, breathless and gasping for anything.

“Want to suck my cock, Lou?” Harry continues, voice barely above a raspy whisper in the close proximity. Louis wishes he could see his face suddenly; but the unwavering view of Harry’s cock thickening in his jeans is nice, too.

He nods again, swallowing thickly as Harry’s hand slides from between his shoulder blades, up to the back of his neck, fingers rubbing into his hair softly. “Harry – fuck. Yes, please,” Louis manages, only feeling a faint twinge of embarrassment at how fucked out he sounds already, not even having at least a hand on his cock yet.

Harry hums softly in approval, and Louis can almost hear the smug grin in it. “Go on then,” He urges, tugging at the longish pieces of Louis’ hair behind his ears, drawing out a needy whimper from the lad leaned over his lap.

Taking a deep breath, Louis smiles softly, dipping down to close the rest of the distance between them. He starts slow, a bit hesitant as he presses his lips against the thick ridge of Harry’s cock, bulging obscenely from the dark fabric.

There is certainly no question to whether or not Harry is packing; Louis thinks as he opens his mouth slightly, dampening the fabric of his trousers.

Harry scratches his blunt nails into Louis’ scalp, sharp intake of breath above him only spurring Louis onwards, leaning back up slightly to work a hand at getting his fly undone, exposing Harry’s brief-covered bulge, strained against the fabric.

“Tease,” He accuses around a breathy sigh as Louis brushes his knuckles against the bulge softly, before curling his palm around Harry’s thigh as he ducks back down, kissing gently over the head of Harry’s cock.

Louis just shrugs in a belated response, tilting his head sideways slightly to shoot Harry a small smirk, propping his head up on his right elbow, digging it into the top of Harry’s thigh for leverage.

The positioning is a bit awkward, stretched over the console, gear shift pressing against his side, but he makes it work as he tugs Harry’s briefs and jeans down to his knees, tongue trapped between his teeth in concentration – it’s not his first time getting off in a car, anyways.

Harry has to lift his hips off the seat for Louis to get his briefs fully out of the way, but as soon as they're tugged down, his cock springs up against his stomach, already leaking precome.

He gives Harry a moment to get his hips seated again, curling his left hand around the older lad’s sharp hip bone as Harry resumes his gentle tugging at Louis’ hair, a silent hurry up, then.

Suppressing a teasing giggle, Louis quirks his lips up smugly, finally wrapping his left palm around the base of Harry’s cock, ducking down to lick along the underside of his shaft slowly, before taking the head into his mouth.

Louis’ eyes flutter shut, hollowing out his cheeks as he works on bobbing his head down, slowly, slowly, slowly. While he’s always been a bit notorious for being fast and easy, leaving a boy behind him sweat slick and covered in come before they know what hit them, Louis wants to take his time with this.

He wants to remember the way Harry cards his fingers through his sweaty fringe reassuringly, his previous raspy tone being nothing compared to the way his voice almost drops an octave, accompanied by the dull _thump_ of his head against the back of the seat as he hisses, “Oh fuck, Louis.”

Louis smiles smugly – or at least, he tries, although it doesn’t work out too well with a mouthful of cock, only ending up sinking down lower, the familiar choking press building up in the back of his throat. He’s gone all the way down on lad’s before, until his nose was nudging against the fine trail of hair on their stomachs, but he’s almost worried that it won’t be _possible_ to do that with Harry.

The familiar prick of tears start stinging at his eyes as he takes more of Harry down with a shaky breath, and Louis knows he's positively fucked – there has to be at least an inch or two of Harry’s cock he’s still unable to sink down on.

“Doing so good, baby,” Harry whispers above him nonetheless, apparently satisfied with Louis’ cock sucking abilities with the quiet obscenities he’s dropping faster than he can fully process what he’s saying.

Louis feels any of his worries fade at Harry’s gentle tone though; while he’s used to hearing the same praise over and over, he’s not quite used to the way that Harry makes it feel real, whispers almost coming off in awe.

He pulls himself off Harry’s cock most of the way, pressing his tongue against the head for a few moments in quick little licks, sucking gently.

“Want you to fuck me,” Louis declares as he pulls off the rest of the way, working his hand in quick strokes against Harry’s spit-slick cock to make up for the absence up his mouth, having to crane his neck a bit to arch his eyebrows in question up at the older lad.

Harry’s cheeks are flushed a bright shade of pink, head tipped back against the rest as he regards Louis with half-lidded eyes. “Of course – yeah,” He murmurs around an eager grin, one hand picking habitually at the fabric of his headscarf. “Would love to fuck you, babe.”

Louis blushes a bit and nods, arms shaking a bit with strain as he pushes himself back up into a sitting position in the passenger seat, still a bit cramped up from how he had himself curled over Harry.

“You think we could manage to do it up front?” Louis asks carefully, gesturing to Harry’s lap with one hand, the other already working at the snap of his shorts. “Want to ride you.”

It takes Harry a moment to decide apparently, as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing at the meager space between his chest and the steering wheel. He finally shakes his head after a moment, curls bouncing from where they’ve started to come loose of his head scarf as he jerks a thumb towards to backseats. “No – it would be easier with more room.” He pauses as he fumbles with getting his briefs and jeans back up over his blatant erection, letting out an audible sigh in discomfort. “Go ahead and crawl back there.”

Louis gives a jerky head nod, although it’s lost as Harry has to open the driver’s side door, reappearing a half-second later as he rips the door open for the backseat and crawls in clumsily. Louis lets out a soft laugh as he shakily navigates himself over the console again, this time just tumbling over into the back of the Rover, able to fit through the gap between the front seats.

Harry’s already got his shirt pulled off by the time Louis pulls himself up onto the leather interior, nimble fingers retying the knot of his scarf where it’s come loose.

They’re both slightly awkward and not so in control of their limbs, Louis realizes with a slight smile as they start working on peeling off the rest of their clothing; a pair of jeans tossed into the trunk here, shorts wadded up to be thrown onto the dash there, neon green trainers just falling to the boards.

“We’re a hot mess,” Harry laughs lowly, as he finally helps Louis out of his dark briefs, flinging them unceremoniously behind him. Louis certainly feels that way; slightly gritty from the heat, hair matted against the back of his neck. Thankfully, the windows of the Rover are tinted heavily, so no one could stumble by and see him like this.

He smiles softly in response anyways, letting out a surprised moan as Harry wraps a large hand around his cock where he’s already starting to soften from the wait. “You are something else, Curly,” He manages with a lazy grin, followed by a breathy sigh as Harry thumbs over the head of his cock, getting him worked up again.

Harry only hums in response, pulling his hand away from Louis’ erection to wrap around the back of the boy’s thighs, lifting him from the seat next to him to drop on his lap, just above his knees.

“Haven’t got any lube, babe,” Harry explains, bottom lip sticking out apologetically as he waggles the fingers on his right hand in front of Louis’ face. “You’re gonna have to suck.”

Louis nods, and leans forwards to wrap his lips around three of Harry’s fingers, careful to get them fully slicked up. While it’s certainly less comfortable than using lube, Louis would do just about anything to get Harry’s cock inside him at this point. It’s not like he’s a stranger to half-assed prep jobs, anyways.

Once Harry deems his fingers slick enough, he pulls them out of Louis’ mouth, wasting no time in reaching around Louis to circle his pointer finger around his rim teasingly, other hand still stroking excruciatingly slow over Louis’ cock.

“C’mon then, don’t want Liam to come looking for me,” Louis warns, arching his eyebrows teasingly down at Harry as he pushes his hips back, desperate to get a finger in him.

Harry smirks, pressing his pointer finger all the way in quickly, without warning, earning a breathy gasp from the boy on his lap. “Bossy,” He comments idly, rubbing his finger softly against the tight wall of Louis’ bum.

Louis almost whimpers – he needs Harry to go faster. All of his earlier thoughts of taking it slow disappeared the moment he got a hand around his cock.

Taking pity, Harry pulls his finger out slowly, pressing back in with two instantly, spreading his fingers out to stretch Louis out between pumps, almost purposely avoiding the small bump to make Louis scream.

“You don’t have to take it slow with me, y’know,” Louis pants, sinking down even farther on Harry’s fingers as he struggles to plant his feet on the surface of the seat, rushing to just _get on with it._

Harry rolls his eyes and nods, tilting his chin up to kiss Louis softly as he finally presses his third finger in. Louis furrows his brow as he realizes this, somehow, is the first time he’s managed to kiss Harry, and presses in closer, letting Harry lick into his mouth with a few teasing nips.

He gasps loudly against his lips as the pads of Harry’s fingers finally brush over his prostrate; eyes fluttering shut as his hips instinctively try to follow the older lad’s fingers as they pull out of him, letting out a soft whimper at the empty feeling.

Harry pulls away from the kiss to spit into the palm of his hand, reaching between him to slick up his cock, still pressed hard against his tummy. “Don’t have a condom, either,” He explains sheepishly, teeth worrying into his bottom lip.

Louis groans, dropping his head against the bare skin of Harry’s shoulder with a frown. He’s _always_ been strict about using a condom, because any infection that messes with his prick is something he would rather avoid. But Harry is probably clean, he thinks, and spread out on Harry’s lap like this, Louis doubts he could even get out of this vehicle without being fucked.

“Just pull out then, twat,” Louis sighs as he straightens himself back up, batting Harry’s hands away from his cock hurriedly to replace with his own. He wraps a hand around the base of Harry’s cock to get in the correct position, flicking a glance up to Harry’s face as he hovers over it. “Swear to God, if you give me the clap, I’ll sic Liam on you.”

Harry nods and holds two of his fingers up in the boy scout swear, entirely too innocent to have a needy lad panting on his lap. “I can live with that.”

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, bracing his left hand on Harry’s shoulder as he hesitantly sinks down onto the older lad’s cock, mouth parting in a silent gasp. It stings a bit, but it’s nothing he can’t handle as Harry wraps his hands around his hipbones, helping him gradually sink past the head, all the way bottomed out.

“Fuckin’ _Christ,_ ” Louis hisses, wrapping both hands around the back of Harry’s neck as he gives himself a moment to adjust, tilting his head against the protruding line of Harry’s collarbone.

Harry kisses his temple softly, rubbing soothing circles into the jutting bones of his hips, struggling to keep his hips seated and not just thrust mercilessly into the younger lad. “Take your time.”

Louis nods, exhaling a shaky breath as he pushes himself back up straight, taking a moment to roll his hips gently on Harry’s cock. Usually, he could take it a lot faster than this; but the boys he's fucked around with weren’t this _massive._

After a moment though, Louis lifts himself back up on shaky thighs, starting out at a slow pace as he thrusts up and down on Harry’s cock. Harry helps him along, using his grip around Louis to lift the lad a bit, easing into a faster pace.

“God, so fuckin’ tight, Lou,” Harry curses into the warm skin of Louis’ shoulder as the lad starts bouncing on his cock quicker now, wordless cries of pleasure resonating from the back of his throat as he tosses his head back.

Louis can’t help the high-pitched whine he lets out as Harry starts thrusting up in time with him, cock brushing against the bundle of nerves that make him positively _lose it_ almost every time he sinks down.

Once Harry wraps a palm around his leaking cock again, Louis cries out loudly, thighs trembling relentlessly as the familiar coil in his stomach becomes more insistent – he knows he’s close.

His hips stutter out of rhythm helplessly, bouncing against Harry’s cock without a single shred of care except for _moremoremore_ , only held steady by Harry’s firm grip. “Fuck,” He pants as he collapses back against the older lad’s chest, trying to regain some sort of rhythm for Harry’s sake, at least. “I’m so close.”

Harry nods above him as he lifts his hips up, bracing himself against the seat with one arm as he repositions them quickly, doing his best not to pull out; they end up with Louis spread out against the seat, open-limbed, and Harry braced above him with flat palms on either side of the lad’s head.

It only takes a few rough thrusts like this to push Louis over the edge, with the way his cock is rubbing against Harry’s stomach and the breathtaking accuracy in the thrusts to nudge at his prostrate. He whimpers into the leather of the seat as he comes over his stomach, blunt nails scratching down Harry’s back.

“So good, baby,” Harry pants above him, hips stuttering for a moment before he pulls out. Louis opens his mouth to protest, because even though he’s a bit sensitive, the sudden emptiness is almost worse. He’s cut short though as Harry flattens himself against Louis, one hand working over his cock as he kisses Louis sloppily, coming over the younger lad’s thighs with a raspy moan.

They fall silent for a moment, only the sound of ragged breathing filling the vehicle as Harry pulls Louis against his chest, stroking over his hair gently with soft words of praise as they catch their breath.

There’s come drying between them, and Louis’ thighs are sticking uncomfortably to the seating, but he makes no protest as Harry wraps an arm around him, letting himself relax for a few moments in his blissed out state. Louis’ eyes flutter open to gaze at the dashboard clock, happy to find that he still has fifteen minutes until Liam gets off his shift.

“Harry?” He asks a few moments later, rolling over to nuzzle into the older lad’s chest sleepily.

Harry only hums in response, fingers scratching at Louis’ scalp gently, chin tucked over his head with a soft smile.

“Think you need to buy a new air freshener – it definitely smells like we just fucked in your mum’s Rover.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Find us on tumblr!](http://1dfetusfics.tumblr.com/)


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